


Those Damn Security Cameras

by jstabe



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: 1_million_words, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jstabe/pseuds/jstabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Stiles sighs again, heavily this time.  "So, umm, it's not what you think."</i>
</p><p>  <i>"You weren't kissing Derek Hale in a dark alley extremely late on a school night?"</i></p><p> <i>"Okay, so that part is exactly what you think," Stiles says with a wince.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Damn Security Cameras

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:  Written for 1_million_words word of the day--"disparity".  Also, I went the general fandom consensus that the sheriff's name is John because I had to call him something. :) Beta'd by witchyemerald and haldoor

* * *

John is putting the finishing touches on blueberry pancakes when he hears Stiles' feet hit the stairs, and he smiles when he hears the familiar slip-stumble followed by a muttered curse.  How the boy hasn't killed himself on those stairs is a mystery.  Stiles barrels into the kitchen, face hopeful and suspicious all at once.

"Pancakes?  On a weekday?"

John shrugs and piles a plate high, hands it off to his son.  "We haven't been able to have too many family dinners lately so I thought we could manage breakfast before school."

Stiles looks guilty as he takes the plate and heads for the dining room.  That is the opposite of what John wants here, and he sighs as fills his own plate before following his son.  He doctors his coffee, watches Stiles as his boy drowns the pancakes in syrup.  He grimaces and adds considerably less syrup to his own stack.  Stiles gets down all of two bites before he starts talking.

"Okay, so I know you've been busy at work and stuff and I've had... stuff, but we're not really breakfast people.  Something on your mind?"

John can tell Stiles is hoping for a negative response, but that he isn't exactly counting on it.  John smiles.  "Well, now that you mention it..."

Stiles groans and drops his fork on his plate, hands already moving wildly.  "Look, Dad..."

"Hold on a minute," John interrupts, gestures for Stiles to pick his fork back up.  "This isn't a bad conversation."  He hopes.  "Just an overdue one."

Stiles doesn't look reassured, but he does pick up his fork and continue with his breakfast.  John nods and starts in on his own.

"I had an interesting conversation at the grocery store yesterday.  Do you know Verna Peed?"

"Umm, little old lady who owns that diner down on 4th?  Where you should **not** be eating because all the grease, oh my God, Dad!"

"I was there in an official capacity, Stiles.  They've had some suspicious activity in the area the last few nights and she was worried."

Stiles' face is pure innocence.  "Suspicious?  Activity?"

"Uh huh.  Seems there's been a gang...

Stiles snorts.  "Beacon Hills doesn't have gangs, Dad."

"Her words, not mine.  And you can't blame her.  She's eighty-six, son, and young guys in leather jackets look like a gang to her."

"But Dad!"

John holds up a hand.  "After a lengthy discussion and review of the security cameras in the area, I'm inclined to believe that the leather jacket wearing contingent was not, in fact, the reason for any of the vandalism."  Stiles looks relieved; John just smiles.  "Imagine my surprise, however, when I got a glimpse of a very familiar hoodie-clad figure locking lips with one of the aforementioned possible gang members."

Stiles' face is beet red.  "Locking lips?  Really?  Who even says that anymore?  And how do you know that you know hoodie guy?  Hoodies are popular apparel.  And kissing.  In the dark.  It can't be easy to actually _see_ who is actually engaged in..."

"Stiles?"

"Yes, Father?"

"How long have we been acquainted?"

Stiles sighs.  "A few years now."

John laughs.  "Son, I would know you anywhere."

Stiles sighs again, heavily this time.  "So, umm, it's not what you think."

"You weren't kissing Derek Hale in a dark alley extremely late on a school night?"

"Okay, so that part is exactly what you think," Stiles says with a wince.

"How long has this been going on?"

"The kissing Derek thing is new.  Like, really new.  The, uh, hanging out with him thing has been going on for a while."

"Define a while."

“Possibly since right around the time Scott and I accused him of murder?”  Stiles flails a bit.  “But he was totally exonerated!  By you!”

“True enough.  Still, there are people in this town who believe he had something to do with his sister’s death.”

“That’s such crap, Dad,” Stiles says angrily.  “She was all he had left.  He would _never_ …”

John holds up a hand.  “I know, I know.  I didn’t say that I believe it.  If I did, that boy would be behind bars and you wouldn’t be allowed within ten feet of him.”

“So I’m still allowed within ten feet of him now?” Stiles asks hopefully.

John leans back in his chair.  “Stiles, he’s a lot older than you.”

“Okay, I admit that there’s a slight…disparity in our ages.”

John bursts out laughing.  “Slight?  Son, if this is your idea of ‘slight’, you need to update the dictionary on your phone.”

“Ha ha.  You are not the funny one in this family.”

“No, but I am the adult, and I can’t say that I’m all that comfortable with you dating an adult yourself.”

Stiles winces.  “Who said anything about dating?”

John sits back up and points a finger at Stiles.  “You had damn well better be dating because there’s only one other reason for you to be sneaking around with an older man and that reason happens to be illegal.  For the next two years, Stiles.”

Stiles holds up his hands placatingly.  “There is nothing illegal going on, Dad, I swear.  No one’s naked parts have been anywhere near anyone else’s… naked parts.”

John sighs and runs a hand through his hair.  “That’s really too much information, Son.”

“Umm, yeah, I realized that about a millisecond after it came out.”

“Glad we cleared that up.  Now explain to me why I should think that you dating Derek Hale is a good thing.”

Stiles is quiet for a long time, and John’s starting to wonder if he’s going to answer at all when Stiles finally speaks.  “You know, it’s funny because I couldn’t stand him when I first met him.  He’s rude and obnoxious and getting him to put words together is almost impossible.  But I get him, you know?  I’m pretty sure this Derek Hale isn’t the Derek he’s supposed to be, but that’s how it goes sometimes, when something bad happens.” 

Stiles pauses and John knows he’s trying to decide whether he should follow that trail.  John just nods encouragingly and Stiles smiles a little.

“I know I’m not the same as before, umm, you know, before Mom. Died.”  Stiles swallows, hard.  “And he gets that.  We both have rough edges and we know how to poke the sore spots, but we don’t so much anymore.  And he might still screw things up, but he’s actually trying and I just…”  Stiles shrugs.  “I like him.  Oddly enough, we’re more alike than we are different, and it works.  Somehow.”

John watches Stiles quietly for a long time, then nods.  “Alright then.  We’ll see how this goes.  But there have to be rules, Stiles.  And you have to start talking to me.”  He taps the picture.  “This is not how I should have found about you and Derek Hale.”

Stiles looks guilty about that, but manages to snark anyway.  “You can just call him Derek, you know.”

John rolls his eyes.  “I’ll practice that when he comes to dinner tonight.  I should be home by 7:00.”

“What?”  Stiles looks panicked.  “Dad, no, come on!  We aren’t doing the ‘meet the parent’ dinner.”

“We are unless you want me to pull him over some afternoon and talk to him that way.”

“Oh my God, you are the absolute _worst_!”

John smiles.  “Then I’ve fulfilled my parental duties for the day, and I’m off to work.  You can do the dishes.  And Stiles?  Either make or order something good.  None of that fake meat crap you try to pawn off on me.”

Stiles narrows his eyes.  “You are evil and I do not approve of this side of you.”

“I’m learning from you, kid.”

Stiles mumbles under his breath, but when John stands up, he does the same and lets John pull him for a hug.  John hugs him tight, hoping like hell that they can finally get all the secrets out.  He misses being able to talk to Stiles.  He sighs and lightly cuffs the back of Stiles’ head.

“Don’t be late for school.”  He smiles.  “Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, Dad.  Even when you’re evil.”

John laughs and goes to gather his things so he can leave.  Stiles is still muttering to himself and it makes John grin as he holsters his gun and stuffs his wallet in his pocket.  He pauses by the front door to grab a jacket, thinks about how he wants the air completely clear between himself and his son.

“Hey, Stiles?” he calls out.

“Yeah?” Stiles answers from the kitchen.

“When Derek comes by tonight we should have a talk about the werewolf thing.  I’m not sure I completely understand all of it.”

There’s a horrified squawk from the kitchen and the sound of breaking glass as Stiles drops something.  John rolls his shoulders and opens the door with a smile; he’s allowed some leeway in torturing Stiles considering what the boy has put him through these last few months.  He steps out of the house, closing the door behind him, and glances at the sky. 

“He’s gonna be fine.”

The breeze picks up, and John nods.  He’s whistling when he heads out toward the cruiser, the sky bright and blue above him.

 


End file.
